


Airs and Airmen

by Maya_Koppori



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: Gen, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maya_Koppori/pseuds/Maya_Koppori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the last time they met, Eugene Newkirk has a family now and is eager to introduce them to his best friend from the Air Force, Dylan Sharp. What he doesn't realize is that his old friend has some news for him- news that even a perspicacious loris had to puzzle over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airs and Airmen

Eugene tugged at his collar and swallowed, scanning the ballroom nervously. It was full of officers and diplomats of the highest ranks, and even a few members of royalty. He felt ostentatious in his pressed black suit, although it was the height of the newest fashion craze. Dr. Barlow had insisted upon it, after all, and he couldn't disobey a direct order.

"Darling, you seem upset," Beatrice murmured at his elbow. She gripped his arm in concern, looking up at him questioningly. "Are you nervous to reunite with your old shipmates?" 

His wife always could see right through him, Eugene had to give her that. He sighed and squeezed her hand in return. "I suppose I am, love. I mean, look at what they've gone on to do. Mr. Fitzroy and Mr. Tyndall have their own ship now." He nodded over to his former cabin mates, who were talking animatedly to a group of boffins about the progress of some sort of new fab on board their hydrogen breathing Aquanaut.

"And what of your accomplishments?" Beatrice exclaimed. "A darling husband and father, a decorated officer of His Majesty's service, and an honorary member of the Zoological society to boot! That's nothing to sneeze at, Gene."

Eugene laughed and suddenly hugged his wife close. "You're the darling one, love. But speak of the devil, where is Oliver?" Beatrice, keen as always, took only a moment to spot the lad- red haired and freckled like a colt's hide, his face also awash in a furious blush as he made conversation with a young lass about his age, fair haired and wearing a sky blue dress.

"Oh look, Gene," Beatrice smiled. "Not yet eleven, and he's out chasing wee lasses already."

Eugene called out to his son, who jumped and made hurried excuses to his companion before scurrying over to his parents. "Yes, da?" he said, breathless.

"Quit your courting for a moment, Ollie," Eugene teased while he ruffled his hair. "If we can ever find them, I need to introduce you to someone."

"Mr. Newkirk, you sodden crust! Is that really you?" A voice hallooed, quite out of place in the ballroom. The small group was instantly pierced with haughty glares, which gradually softened as the speaker was identified. A man in a military uniform stepped through the crowd and waved, undeterred by the mortification of his companion.

Eugene's breath caught in his throat and his heart hummed like a thousand bat wings. "Dylan Sharp," he breathed. Beatrice's supporting arm was sod all keeping him on his feet. "Would you look at you."

Dylan, taller than Eugene remembered but still with his roguish charm, grinned and ushered his companion forward. "You remember Sophia, of course."

Eugene finally spared a glance for the lady and had to double take. He did know the lady, but not as she was now. "S-Sophia?" he said in a squeaking voice. He gathered himself, mind reeling, and scraped together a shallow bow. "Your Highness."

"None of that anymore, Mr. Newkirk," Sophia laughed. It was a tinkling sound, so different from Eugene's admittedly shady memory. She was a beauty as Dylan was handsome; completely and without argument.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sharp," Beatrice interjected, giving Eugene the edge of her elbow. Her eyes flitted to his, indicating that he'd forgotten his own introductions.

"Ah, yes." Eugene cleared his throat. "Dylan, S-Sophia, this is my wife, Beatrice." Beatrice bobbed her head and Oliver waved shyly.

Sophia graced them with a wide smile. "You are very lucky," she told Beatrice. "Your husband is a very brave man; I once saw him dive into a flock of strafing hawks on the Leviathan and come out with only a paper cut."

Oliver's eyes grew big as saucers and his moth dropped into an astonished 'o'. "Da, you never told me that!"

"Well, I-"

Dylan cut in to add, "And Sophie, love, don't forget that spot-on emergency Huxley landing- and not a month after we left the ship, Gene you devil!"

"You saw that?" Eugene blushed. It hadn't been anything really, a gust of wind spooking the Huxley and a nice controlled descent. But that American reporter had caught wind of it, and after the story about the missing Austrian heir...

"I believe there's a clipping of the article in a scrapbook at home," Sophia confirmed. She smiled softly at Dylan. "Next to others of equal importance."

"Barking spiders," Oliver whispered, and Eugene knew his son realized to whom he was speaking. Dylan and Sophia weren't the only ones who scrapbooked. "Da, is this really Ale-"

"Sophia, darling," Beatrice corrected gently, with a glance at the lady in question to confirm. "Her name is Sophia."

Oliver stood a moment to examine her, and shrugged. He bowed and presented himself to Dylan and Sophia. "I'm Oliver Newkirk ma'am, at your service and pleased to make your acquaintance."

Eugene swelled with pride. He watched Sophia's expression melt at his son's antics- they were incredibly adorable. He wondered briefly if she and Dylan had any children, but involuntarily blanched at the thought of how such a thing would come about under the circumstances.

"What a dapper young lad. Oh, we can't have that," Dylan was saying while Eugene soliloquized internally. His head snapped to the side and he raised a hand to his mouth and shouted "Jamie! Maria! Get over here so your mother and I can show you off!"

Giggles erupted from two different sides, and two small figures scampered up to them, both immaculately dressed. One was a virtual copy of Sophia, all pale skin and curly reddish brown hair and soft smiles, and wore a lovely green satin dress. The other, Eugene realized with a barely concealed chuckle, was the "wee lass" Oliver had been speaking so animatedly with before. She more favorably resembled Dylan; or would, if Dylan had been born a girl.

"Say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Newkirk, children," Sophia instructed. "And mind your manners."

The children curtsied very neatly and held out their hands to shake. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Newkirk," they said in unison. "Pleased to meet you."

"The honor is ours," Beatrice assured them, laughing. She shook their hands and nudged Oliver forward. "Go on, darling. Say hello."

"Hullo, Maria," he said to the girl in green. His voice seemed to abandon him when he turned to her sister. "Hullo Jamie," he whispered.

"Hullo again, Ollie."

Dylan looked between the two and grinned. "Well would you look at that. They've made friends already."

"Hush, da," Jamie hissed, blushing furiously. Eugene felt for her; the poor dear looked terrified.

"Atticus James Sharp!" Sophia chastised. "Don't speak to your father that way, please!" She shook her head. "Such behavior!"

Jamie apologized promptly, but Eugene's head was spinning. He had always been slow to process, but this was something else. "Excuse me," he said abruptly. "Oliver, just look at the state of your tie! We'll fix that yet." He quickly absconded with his son to a quieter corner, leaving his wife alone with the Sharps.

"Oliver," he said softly. He knelt and fiddled uselessly with his son's tie, which was perfectly fine. "What do you make of young Jamie?"

Oliver looked at him, puzzled. "He's quite nice, da. A squick prattlish, but very funny. He likes to laugh a lot."

Eugene sighed, solidified by the word he. "Son, you know your mother and I love you, right?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "If you told me half as much I'd still not forget it. Why?"

"Did you-?" Eugene coughed and stood, still holding Oliver by the shoulder. "You're fond of him then? You don't find it strange that he's dressed like his mother and sister?"

Oliver's expression grew defensive. "He looks nice!"

"Yes, yes he does," Eugene said quickly, laughing. "Forget I mentioned anything. Run along now, and be friendly."

Oliver nodded and grinned, immediately going back to their previous group and engaging Jamie in conversation. Eugene followed more slowly, only shaking his head with a smile when questioned about his strange absence.

"He's a good lad, your Oliver," Dylan told him. Again, Eugene's heart stuttered. He was a happily married man and completely faithful, but nothing, not even time, could completely shatter a youthful fancy.

"Aye," he answered finally. "He takes after his mother."

Dylan slugged him playfully in the arm. "Obviously, or he'd be a bumrag like you who doesn't write but once a year."

They laughed and suddenly it felt like they were fifteen years younger and back in their middy uniforms, larking about topside with the wind in their hair.

"We will have to remedy that," Eugene agreed, chuckling. "Oliver's taken quite a shining to your Jamie."

Dylan's eyebrows shot up. "You don't say." He observed the pair, who sensed his scrutinizing and turned to question him. "Jamie," he said. "Why don't you take Oliver to see your Uncle Jaspert? He'd just love to meet the captain of the Glaucus."

"Aye, da." Jamie bounced on his toes and took Oliver's hand, causing the other boy to squeak audibly.

"But da," Oliver protested, beseeching his father. "I can't talk to a captain!"

"Course you can," Jamie scoffed. He seemed oblivious to Oliver's reaction. "Come on, don't dawdle." He started dragging Oliver away to meet Jaspert, no small feat for a young boy in heeled shoes.

Oliver cast one last desperate glance back at his father, who gave him a thumbs up and a wink. "Go on, son." He leaned down so only Oliver could hear and whispered "I'm trying to get that for you!"

Eyes wide and almost fearful, Oliver finally consented to being pulled away into the crowd.

"We are good," Dylan congratulated.

"Yeah." Newkirk laughed. He watched as Beatrice and Sophia broke off with Maria to dance on the floor. "Do you mind me asking though- has Jamie always preferred to wear dresses?"

Dylan shrugged. "We never thought about what the kids wore. They chose their outfits and after a while I found Jamie with one of Maria's frocks." He snickered. "He was so scared I'd be mad. I wonder what ever gave him that impression? I of all people couldn't fault him. But no, not really. As a babe he never gave off an impression that he preferred it one way or the other."

Eugene frowned. "A babe? How young did you adopt?"

Dylan's grin grew to Cheshire proportions. "Why Mr. Newkirk, who ever said anything about adoption?"

Eugene gaped and was caught between looking between Dylan and Sophia. "But she's-"

"Right."

"And you're also-"

"Not." Dylan threw an arm around his shoulders. "Congratulations, Mr. Newkirk, you've finally cracked what the boffin's fabs found out fifteen years ago." He tipped Eugene a wink and sauntered out into the crowd, still with the swagger of a true airman.

Eugene didn't remember fainting, but when Beatrice woke him, with Sophia apologizing profusely while Dylan rolled on the floor nearby, incapacitated by laughter, his first thought was that- bugger it all- he'd gone through a sexuality crisis all for nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this some time ago for my real life Dylan Sharp, based upon his headcanon for a transgendered heir of Austria-Hungary.


End file.
